“My bad knees appreciate your independence, Maggie.”
She smiled despite the worry nagging at her. “Thank you for seeing me to the house.”
“It was the least I could do after all the help you lent the Orshlins this week,” Doc said. “I fear things would have turned out badly if not for you.”
“I was glad to help.” She fidgeted with her handbag, hesitant to leave. “How much longer do you think it’ll be before you hear from your friend in St. Louis?”
“Wish I knew.” He slid her a questioning look. “You’re worried about this bounty hunter.”
“He could return any time. I’m afraid to venture out on the street now.” Afraid that she’d get caught and dragged back to Burland. God only knew what fate would await her then.
Doc fisted the reins on his knee and swore softly. “I’ll send another wire to the hospital.”
“Thank you.”
“Get some rest,” he said.
She climbed out and removed her small satchel. “I suggest you take your own advice. It won’t do if you fall under the weather.”
He laughed at that. “Point taken. Now go on with you.”
Maggie sprinted up the front steps, anxious to get inside. Yes, she was weary, but rest could wait. The desire for a bath throbbed in her veins, and she was determined to answer that call.
Mrs. Gant looked up from dusting the front room. “I hear you would have done Florence Nightingale proud with all the help you gave at the Orshlin farm.”
“The birthing was the most wondrous thing to witness,” Maggie said. “But caring for the babies the first few days was worrisome.”
“Doc certainly sang your praises.” She flicked Maggie a sad smile. “I know it’s wrong of me, but I couldn’t help thinking how wonderful it would’ve been if Lester hadn’t met such a deadly fate, and you and he married.”
Maggie smiled, hating the lie she’d woven here. Hating that she still didn’t dare draw Mrs. Gant into her confidence.
Deceit didn’t sit well with her, but she’d been afraid to trust. She was still afraid of revealing all.
She’d never dreamed when she concocted this plan to escape Nowell that she’d come to hurt those she liked so well. And she would hurt them when she left, for Doc or Dade would surely tell these kind folks the truth.
“Listen to me rambling on,” Mrs. Gant said. “You are surely exhausted and wish to rest.”
“Actually I long for a good bath.” She’d managed to work up a good sweat the week she was at the Orshlins’ farm.
Unfortunately their bathing facilities were a tin tub set up before the fireplace once a week and shared by all. Bath day was Sunday–today–so she’d missed out on that tradition.
Not that she was complaining, for she’d had no desire to join the family in their weekly ritual. “Availing myself of the washstand had to suffice during my stay.”
“Then a bath is what you shall have. I’ll get the water heated and start sending buckets up to you in the dumbwaiter.”
“Thank you.”
She climbed the stairs and deposited her satchel in her room. Having lived most of her life in Harlan Nowell’s mansion, she’d forgotten that most folks had adequatebathing facilities at best. Why, besides the company of her foster sister, the bathing chamber she shared with Caroline was what she missed the most.
While Mrs. Gant didn’t have a boiler in her cellar or pipes to feed into the claw foot tub, she did have a good substitute to provide her guests.
She slipped into the bathing chamber with a fresh change of clothes and gave the velvet cord a tug. A faint bell could be heard below.
Before long, the pulley inside the dumbwaiter began squealing as buckets were hauled up. While she took the buckets from the lift, Mrs. Gant chattered on.
“Why, I told Mayor Willis at the grocery store that you’d been orphaned when you was just a baby and didn’t remember your family at all,” Mrs. Gant said.
“That is true.” Even if they were talking about a different family, the end result had been the same.
“And your poor brother,” she went on. “Why, I was just thunderstruck when Lionel accused Dade of being kin to that gang and Dade said it was so. I imagine it shamed your brother and you to know family had robbed the town that he’d vowed to protect.”
From the glimpse she’d gotten of Dade, that much was true. Not that Lionel Payne believed it.
“He was upset by it all.” As was Maggie with this town for assuming the worst of Dade. “The liveryman’s son is taking on the job of deputy,” she said as she took the last bucket from the lift and poured the hot water into the tub.
“Duane? Why, he’ll do the town proud.”
“That’s what Doc said.”
She stripped to the skin and climbed into the tub scented with lilacs and rose oil. An aphrodisiac for the senses. She leaned back and welcomed the lap of water over her tired body.
She’d been sure that getting away from Dade Logan for a few days would temper these yearnings she had for him. Instead she caught herself thinking about him at odd times.
While she was dreaming fanciful thoughts about them that could never be, he was discovering her lie. But she wasn’t sorry that had happened. If he’d not ridden out to the Orshlins when he did, he’d have been in town when the Logan Gang road in.
Chills feathered over her heart at the thought of that happening. She barely knew Dade, yet she was sure he would have taken a stand against his father. He could have ended up like Lester, gunned down.
“I plumb forgot to tell you about the man that came round,” Mrs. Gant said, her voice carrying well up the shaft to intrude on Maggie’s musings. “He said he was one of those private detectives, but he was a rough character.”
Maggie gripped the smooth cool edge of the tub as cold hard reality destroyed her respite. “Dade mentioned that a bounty hunter came to town, looking for a thief.” For her.
Pots and pans rattled in the kitchen below. “When this man told me what this Sutten woman had done, I just couldn’t believe my ears. She stole from the kind folks who’d trusted her to care for their crippled daughter.”
“How horrid!” If Mrs. Gant only knew the truth.
“Right off I thought of you and Eloisa and how close you’d been,” Mrs. Gant said. “Of course, you was adopted into that family.”
Maggie pinched her eyes shut, dreading to know what Mrs. Gant had said. “What all did you tell this bounty hunter about me?”
“He wasn’t one for conversation. So I only told him the truth, that nobody but the sheriff and his sister lived here.” Mrs. Gant tsked. “My land, it surely tells you what kind of person this Sutten woman is to bite the hand that’s been feeding her for years.”
“So true,” Maggie managed to get out.
Maggie’s enjoyable soak was forgotten. If the bounty hunter had been the friendly sort, Mrs. Gant would have told him all about Daisy Logan’s and Eloisa Reynard’s stays here. He would have found out that Eloisa was a cripple, and he surely would have figured out their true identities.
Clearly using Daisy’s name any longer would be too risky now. If the bounty hunter dug deep enough in Manitou Springs, he might find someone else who remembered that Daisy Logan and a crippled friend had taken the waters there–and figure out that they used false names. That would have him coming right back here to Placid.
Maggie toweled off and quickly dressed, her body tensing once again. It was simply too dangerous for her to stay here much longer.
She’d have to come up with a new name and disappear. And she’d have to do it soon.
Chapter 7
A mile outside town, the steady pop from Dade’s Peacemaker echoed off the canyon walls. He pitched the last can out from behind the boulder that shielded him, and before it began its downward arc, a bullet caught it and sent the tin spinning back into the air.
Worry had crouched on his shoulders over Duane Tenfeather’s ability to handle a gun again, but it had
lifted as the deputy continued to hit the target.
Duane’s accuracy was dead on, but his lack of speed with a sidearm was a concern. His injured hand just couldn’t draw in a blink, which would leave Duane vulnerable in a showdown.
However the speed with which he handled a rifle more than made up for it. Dade was duly impressed with Duane’s inborn patience, his ability to wait out the best opportunity to fire.
Maybe that came from his Indian blood. Maybe he’d developed it from watching his pa pounding hot iron into shape at the livery. Whatever it was, that trait would be a benefit to him in this job.
He already stood back from folks and observed–something that likely came from his being a breed in a town that was mostly white. Patience could save his life if he got holed up in a standoff and risked running out of ammunition.
“Who taught you to shoot like that?” Dade asked.
“My pa.” Duane showed sense and respect as he handed the Colt to Dade. “He fought in the Civil War for the Union Army, helping them track renegades and bushwhackers. Come to find out the sergeant in my cavalry unit had ridden with him.”
A far nobler service than that of Dade’s pa, who abandoned his family farm after his wife died giving birth to a baby that died with her. Clete Logan had taken Dade and Daisy to an orphanage soon afterward, telling Dade that he and his uncles Brice and Seth were heading west to work on the railroad.
It wasn’t until Daisy was put on the orphan train that Dade learned the truth. Clete, Brice, and Seth Logan had thrown in with a band of outlaws who were terrorizing the west.
By the time Dade, Reid, and Trey escaped the orphanage, Dade had heard that the Logan brothers had formed their own outlaw gang. But while Dade longed to find Daisy, he had no desire to ever see his pa or uncles again.
He’d forged a new family with Reid and Trey. The foster brothers had formed a pact to stick together through thick and thin. That became easy after Kirby Morris took them in.
“Your pa know you volunteered to be the new deputy?” Dade asked.
Duane nodded. “He thought it was a good thing to do, but my ma and my intended ain’t so sure.”
“Didn’t know it had gotten that serious with you and Serena.” But he should have suspected as much when he saw the disappointed look on Serena’s face when Duane volunteered. “The women will worry about the danger you’re putting yourself in.”
“Way I see it, being a deputy is a damn site safer job than being an army scout,” Duane said. “And I sure as hell don’t want to take over Pa’s livery some day.”
Dade didn’t blame him none for shunning a job he hadn’t wanted. Dade had hated having his life planned out for him as well, which was one of the reasons why he banded together with Reid and Trey and escaped the Guardian Angel’s Orphan Asylum.
He wasn’t about to be railroaded into becoming a steel-worker or taking on some other trade in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He wanted to live his own life. He wanted to find his sister, and damn anyone who stood in his way.
“Why’d you leave the army when it’s obvious you can still handle a gun?” Dade asked.
“I was tired of the killing. Tired of always watching my back. Tired of owning nothing but what was in my knapsack.” Duane looked at him. “I missed my family and home.”
“Yep, I know what you mean.” Hell, he missed the Crown Seven. Missed his brothers, even the one who had betrayed him.
“Nosiree,” Duane said. “Ain’t a bit sorry I mustered out.”
Dade smiled, hoping his deputy felt the same a year from now. “Would you want to be sheriff some day?”
A dull flush crept up Duane’s neck. “I ain’t trying to force you out, sheriff.”
“I never thought you was, Duane,” Dade said. “Fact is that I plan to move on. So do you want to be the town sheriff?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
Dade nodded, appreciating Duane’s honesty. “Then I’d best take pains instructing you on the ins and outs of being sheriff.”
“Like an apprentice?” Duane asked, the pitch in his voice betraying his excitement.
“Yep, like an apprentice.” And wasn’t that just a hoot.
Dade had had nobody to show him the ropes of this job when he took it on six months past. He’d just known that a sheriff had to have eyes in the back of his head.
He felt certain Duane had already honed that same trait. Yep, when he moved on, which seemed to be sooner than later now, it’d be with a clearer conscience.
“That bounty hunter that came through last week,” Duane said. “I swore I saw him this morning riding just north of town.”
That was the last thing Dade wanted to hear. “Did he seem to be moving on?”
“Hard to tell. At first I thought he was setting up camp above town, but when I looked up on the ridge an hour later, he was gone.”
But where to?
Dade had a hunch it wasn’t far. Allis Carson was probably looking for a place to watch the town unobserved. Like a sniper, he needed a location that gave a good view of the town so when Maggie stepped into the open, he’d know where to find her. He’d be able to figure out the best place to catch her off guard and make off with her.
“About what time did you see him?” Dade asked.
“Right before the bank was robbed.”
Dade swiped a hand over his mouth, mulling that over. He’d assumed Carson had returned to town in the hopes he’d spy Maggie. But it was just as likely that he was trying to pick up the trail of the Logan Gang.
“You remember what ledge you saw him on?” Dade asked.
“I sure do,” Duane said.
“Then show me.”
They mounted up and headed out with the new deputy leading the way. Twenty minutes later they stood on a wide natural ledge of granite.
Dade squatted by the fire pit that had been covered over. He looked south. This location gave an unobtrusive view of the bank, but when he shifted a bit to the side, the livery, the boardinghouse, and Doc’s office were visible.
“You said you noticed he left after the bank was robbed?” Dade asked.
“Sure did.” The deputy toed the stub of a brown cheroot that’d been stomped out, and Dade noted it was one of many the bounty hunter had smoked while he was up here. “You think he went after the Logan Gang?”
Dade shrugged. “Hard to say.”
Whether Carson recognized the outlaws or not, he could be trailing them if he’d witnessed the robbery. The reward on them would be mighty tempting to most men, and if this bounty hunter had run into a dead end searching for Maggie Sutten, he might invest the time necessary to round up the Logan Gang.
The outlaws and Carson could be miles from here by now. No matter how much he wished that to be the case, he suspected Carson would come back. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But when Dade and Maggie least expected it, the bounty hunter would show his face.
Carson had been hired to find Margaret Sutten, and he imagined Harlan Nowell was paying a handsome fee to find her. The man damned sure wouldn’t give up the chance of making easy money–and tracking a woman was considered just that.
“Carson will come back,” Dade said.
“What makes you think so?” the deputy asked. “The woman he seeks isn’t in Placid.”
It wasn’t in Dade’s nature to lie, but he had done it many times when he was protecting his sister. Though he had no idea where to find her, Maggie was his strongest tie to Daisy. He wasn’t about to just hand her over to this bounty hunter now.
“He thinks she is. You tell me if you’ve seen her.” Dade repeated the description Carson had given.
The deputy went white around the mouth. “That sounds like the mayor’s wife.”
Now there was a bonus Dade hadn’t anticipated. “It also sounds like my sister, but I have my doubts that this bounty hunter would take the time to figure out which one was Margaret Sutten.”
“You think he’d just grab any woman who came close to that description and
hightail it?”
“It’s a possibility we can’t dismiss.”
“We damned sure ain’t gonna stand for that.”
Just what Dade wanted to hear.
He got to his feet and scanned the canyon walls that curved around the mountain town like protective arms. The serenity was deceptive, as those who’d recently been robbed could attest.
Yep, the town lay before him from this angle. He wasn’t fool enough to think this was the only spot. If Allis Carson had found one place to observe the comings and goings down below, he had likely found another hidey-hole.
The bounty hunter could know Maggie had returned to the boardinghouse. He could be planning how to grab her at this moment.
Duane scanned the area with sharp eyes, looking more like a lawman than Dade could have imagined. “Just what the hell did this Sutten woman do anyway?”
“Stole a couple of hundred dollars from the man she worked for, plus an old broach.”
“Seems a waste to send a hired gun after her for just that.”
Dade couldn’t agree more. How much of what Maggie told him was fiction?
She swore Harlan Nowell’s daughter had given her money to escape, yet Harlan Nowell claimed Maggie had stolen it. If that was not the truth, then why was Harlan Nowell hounding her?
He had a hunch that Maggie had done something far more serious to rile the rich man. Something that he wasn’t willing to forgive or forget.
“Let’s head back,” Dade said. “We’ve got a town to protect.”
Dade had to have another long talk with Maggie. If he was to protect her, he had to know the whole story.
Even then he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to keep her safe. What he wasn’t sure of yet was if he should even try.
Maggie paced her room at the boardinghouse, pausing at intervals to gaze out the window. Her bath had refreshed her, but tension continued to hold her prisoner.
How long would it take for the bounty hunter to find out that she and Caroline had stayed in Placid after visiting the baths in Manitou Springs? How much longer would Maggie be safe here?
At the time it had seemed like such a grand adventure to pretend to be someone else as they rode the narrow gauge rail from Colorado Springs to Burland. She and Caroline had both wanted to escape the lives they had, so dreaming up new names and pasts had been innocent fun that they could enjoy if only for a little while.
In a Cowboy’s Arms Page 9